Coffee
by partsguy
Summary: A story based on the ending of Season 5. What may have happened when Morse asked Miss Thursday whether that offer of a cup of coffee still stood.


**Coffee**

"I just thought .. maybe..that offer of a coffee was still going"

It took her a few moments to fully grasp the words that she had heard him say. Words that she confused almost as much as seeing him arrive at her doorstep this morning. Either one of those things had been almost unthinkable to her before they had actually happened.

And now he was expecting her answer. An answer that she was unable to utter in the uncomfortable silence that followed. She and Morse stood, each with a mixture of hope and fear. For his part it was the hope that she would accept and the fear that she wouldn't. She on the other hand felt the hope and surprise of his reaching out to her and the fear that it for some reason wasn't genuine.

Finally, she could only give a little smile and say "certainly"." But I was just going out, why don't you come along? I know a little shop, it won't be crowded at this time of day. We can sit for a bit, relax and talk".

To Morse that seemed to be the best that he could hope for. While like many males the thought of trailing a woman around didn't appeal to him, the thought of spending some time with Miss Thursday, Joan, did. So, with only a little hesitation, which he hoped she didn't notice, he said "of course."

Together they started to walk down the sidewalk, before the silence got too loud she asked him "what brought you out so early today"? "I thought you would be trying to catch up on your rest." "No, I wanted to catch you at breakfast at least before you went out for the day. Perhaps I could get that cup of coffee."

"Well you timed it pretty close, you almost missed me." But you didn't and I'm glad." To anyone watching them as she led them towards the shop she knew there would have been nothing remarkable about them. Just a young couple out on a Saturday morning, no hint of the unresolved burdens they carried. To them however the weight of those burdens became heavier with each step.

When they had arrived at the coffeeshop Joan had asked for a quiet table in the corner. In response to the age-old query of "what'll you have?" Joan had replied for both. "just coffee please". The waiter had brought them each a coffee as well as a carafe. Once he had left they and finished to suit their respective tastes. Morse of course taking his black, Joan hers with cream and sugar.

Once each had made their preparations it was time for one of them to begin. As usual it was Joan who had to try and a conversation, hoping that he would join in at some point. As a result, the conversation was sporadic, the usual pleasantries and inane topics. Yes, the weather was warm for this time of the year, and no, hadn't heard from so and so for a while. Occasionally there would be a nervous laugh, usually from Joan. Even more seldom Morse would attempt some semblance of a smile. To anyone observing them the attempt they were making to reach a common ground would have been painful. Each of them trying to avoid making eye contact with the other by alternately staring at their coffee cup or stirring it unnecessarily. The silence occasionally broken by some simple question or an equally brief answer. Both struggling to find the key to unlock all the words that the other had buried away.

How it happened neither would ever really be able to remember or explain. But one of them must have, at some point said the magic word. A word which led to an answer which led to another question. And everything seemed to come out, not at once, oh no, certainly not at once. Nor were their secrets given up easily. Sometimes they had to be almost painfully extracted. Or as equally painfully given up. The feelings were buried much too deep, had been stored up and denied too long for that. But they did finally come out. The hurt, the secret joys, the longing or maybe it was really need and certainly the fear. And with each bit of it came the need to know more, and sometimes to offer more, until finally each of them was drained. There was no more that needed to be said, no more questions to ask. Maybe it was time that was needed to understand the depth of what they had just shared. Each in their own way felt warm and satisfied, grateful that they had finally done it, but it was done. There were no more words left unsaid, no more secrets.

So intent had they been they on their conversation, with trying to understand every nuance, every inflection, that time was irrelevant. Occasionally throughout the day a waiter would, though they were hardly noticed, come by to refill their cups. At some point during the day, the manager had become frustrated with their staying so long and spending so little. He had gone over to remind that it was a place of business not a library, and they had been occupying his table for a considerable time. The quiet look he had received from Morse reminded him that he needed to talk to his cook rather urgently.

It was Morse, as was his want, who was the first to break the spell, having glanced outside and to his shock seen that the daylight was beginning to fade. So intent had they been on each other that the whole day had gone by. He signaled that it was time to go by reaching for his coat, an obvious preparation to leave. It had been a long day and the intensity of their emotions had left him drained. As he braced himself to push back from the table she had one more surprise for him. She reached across and gently laid her right hand on his arm, looked into his eyes and with a look that seemed to come from her soul asked him "Do you have to go now?"

"I don't have to go back to my flat, but they may want their table for the dinner service". Not quite understanding Joan glanced outside for the first time. and only then understood what a marathon they had been engaged in. Morse could only smile at the look of incredulity that stole across her face. A bit embarrassed she said, "well I guess we should go". So, they stood and walked up to the register where Morse paid the bill, and they walked into the late afternoon light.

As they walked along they did as most couples do, although this may have been the first time that they had actually thought of themselves as a couple, tried to figure out where to go for something to eat. Since they had skipped lunch each had different opinions. This was made more complicated by each wanting to defer to the other. Before they could reach a decision, they heard a male voice calling "Joan, Joan, wait!".

Turning towards the sound of the voice as well as approaching footsteps they saw a well-dressed young man hustling towards them. A broad smile on his face and obviously intent on a conversation with Joan. As he neared he slowed and said "Joan, I'm so glad I caught you. I've been ringing your flat all day. Wanted to remind you of the show we talked about". You still want to go? We've got time."

She had forgotten all about it. And right now, leaving Morse was the last thing on her mind. But she needed to extricate them from this with as much grace as possible. "Morse, this is David. I was just telling you about him earlier.'. "David, this is my friend Morse." The men exchanged looks, each trying to appear indifferent at the same time wondering how the other fit into Joan's life. Underneath her calm exterior Joan was almost in a panic, trying to figure out how to prevent everything she and Morse had gained from being lost. To keep him from deferring to another man who he felt was more important to her. The best she could figure was simple honesty. "Morse and I have been spending the day together and were just going to dinner, but I'm sure you've eaten already."

David, recognizing things for what they were, smiled and said that yes, he had eaten and that he didn't want to hold them up. Wishing Morse a good evening he turned and walked off the way he had come. Morse watched him for a couple of seconds with an impassive look on his face. A look that he had practiced many times and had become quite good at. Turning back, he noticed Joan looking intently at him, trying to gauge his feelings. "Morse", I".." OH, come on, lets get something to eat."

Although a meal wasn't as important as either pretended, it wasn't long before they were able to find a pub that wasn't too crowded for a Saturday evening. One they both knew of but neither had tried before. Joan ordered fish and chips while Morse was only going to have a pint. She wasn't having it however. "Morse, have you eaten today?" He looked at her with a look of indifference. "Doesn't matter." "It does matter, it's been a long stressful day, and you shouldn't drink on an empty stomach". Seeing that she was determined and unwilling to get involved in an argument, he asked the waiter to bring him the same as she was having.

Having finished their meal over some idle conversation it was obviously time to go…somewhere. That problem was easily solved by Joan's announcement that she was tired and that she just wanted to go back to her flat.

Arriving on the sidewalk in front of her flat with its distinctive red door provoked a feeling of Déjà vu in Morse. Almost like someone realizing that this is the point that you began looking at a movie. The awkwardness of the moment was broken by Joan who looked up and asked Morse "Do you want to come in?" seeing his hesitation she tried a different tact "I still have that wine you brought over for my flat warming". Knowing he had refused her once, and not willing to end the evening just now he could only say "sure".

Joan led the way in, and busied herself by turning on a few lights. Shrugging off her coat, over her shoulder she told Morse "put your jacket wherever you like, and make yourself comfortable, I'll go get the wine."

Morse having followed her inside occupied himself by pausing to glance around the room. That evoked memories of the last time, the only time, he had been there. Noticing what subtle changes she had made he could only nod approval. All in all, a very comfortable, if a bit too modern for his taste, residence.

"Well, what do you think?" He turned to see her entering the room carrying a bottle of wine, a corkscrew and two glasses. "Very nice, I think it suits you very well." She smiled as she walked towards him, telling him "well there are still a few more things I want to do". Reaching him she handed him the bottle and corkscrew. She enabled her to move a glass to each hand as she told him "I thought we would try the white if that's alright with you, will you open".

He opened the bottle with the ease of a man who had done it before. Then he poured a generous amount into each of the glasses she offered him. Each took a sip and nodded approvingly at the taste. Seeming to have a thought, she asked "want to try the roof again?" Before he could comment she settled the matter, "Come on, let's go". With a nod of her head she led him to the door concealing the stairway which led up to the roof. Pausing for a moment to make sure he was following she opened the door and went up the steps toward the roof. Stepping out onto the rooftop she relished the cool of the early evening. Turning back to Morse she asked "did you bring the bottle?" He replied that indeed he had, and following her lead, they walked over to the edge where they could look out over the city in the fading light.

They stood there side by side in a companionable silence for a few moments. Each was thinking back to the last time they had stood in almost the exact spot, and the results that followed. Finally, Morse had to break the reverie. Without turning his head, he declared "Great view, just like you said" Pausing just for a moment in a quiet voice he said "Not like last time is it?" Taking another sip of her wine Joan responded, "not at all, not at all, much better this time don't you think?". The answer was so obvious that Morse didn't bother to respond. Each continued to sip their wine, lost in the companionship they shared. Each feeling that too many words would spoil the moment forever. Occasionally Morse would refill their glasses, accepting the smile of thanks that was offered.

With the sun long gone below the horizon the evening was getting noticeably cooler. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he thought he noticed her shiver. Although comfortable himself, he thought to ask her if she was chilly and wanted to go inside. Seemingly a little surprised by his question, she agreed that it was about time that they went back inside.

"But before we go back inside I think we have some unfinished business Morse." Not sure of her meaning, he can only raise a quizzical eyebrow. "Remember what happened last time Morse" Still not certain of her meaning he replied; "Of course, in exquisite detail". Pausing to gather up her courage she looked up at him and with just the slightest quiver in her voice said "Morse, I know it hurt you deeply when I told you I wanted you to meet my friend. I shouldn't have done that, and I didn't really mean it." Morse really didn't want to have this discussion, particularly not tonight. Just as he was starting to reply she cut him off. "But Morse, it broke my heart when you walked away, even though deep down I didn't blame you". In the faint glow of the streetlamps below he thought he detected something in her eyes as she looked away from him, taking a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh. There was nothing for him to say, nothing that could be, or even that needed to be said. When she turned back she once again looked him in the eye and said, "Morse, I have one question for you now, and you need to think about your answer". Totally unsure of what she could possibly be asking he remained silent. After a few seconds she said. "Morse, before we go inside the question is…., are you going to walk away from me tonight?"


End file.
